Darkness
by sable113
Summary: There is nothing she fears more than darkness. This is the unnamed girl from District 8 in the 74th Hunger Games and her death.


_**I own nothing but the idea. **_**The Hunger Games**_** belongs to Suzanne Collins, including all characters mentioned. Enjoy!**_

_**Edit: After watching the movie (it was soooo good!) I have concluded that it did not do this scene justice. Then again, neither did the book. Sigh. Well, I suppose that's why I wrote this :)**_

I'm not brave. I'm not clever. I'm not fast or strong or nimble. Right now, all I am is terrified.

My fear of the dark is childish, but no matter what I do, I can't get rid of it. Every time I try to sleep in a completely dark room, I startle at every noise, I see things in shadows that aren't there, I hear whispers all around me.

I knew from the moment my name was drawn from the reaping ball that I was going to die. I have accepted that. I have said my goodbyes to my family and friends, and I am ready. But that doesn't stop the fear.

The forest is so black I can't see my hand in front of my face. I am walled in on all sides. My breathing comes short and fast and panicked. Light. I need light.

My desperate hands tear at the branches of the trees nearby, building a hurried fire. I didn't get much from the Cornucopia, but I managed to grab a box of matches. It takes my shaking fingers four tries to light the fire. Then finally it flares up, and I exhale. I'm safe.

I build up my campfire and scoot close to it, warming my hands and toes. It feels so good to be inside the warm, protective glow of light. The darkness outside can't touch me now.

I find myself dozing off. Hours pass and the fire dies down, but I don't bother to build it up again. Dawn is approaching, and with it the sun.

That's when I hear it. Footsteps, coming my way. Running. They know I'm here.

I am an idiot.

I thought that I was safe but I wasn't. In the Hunger Games, no one is safe, ever. It's not the darkness that I should have feared, but what comes out of the darkness.

I can't move from fear, praying that they will somehow pass by without noticing me. It's an impossible wish.

The big boy from District 2 is the first to spot me, and his lips curl into a horrible smile when he sees me. Five more Careers follow him…except one of them isn't a Career. It's the blonde boy from District 12 – Peeta, I think – who confessed his love for his district partner in front of all of Panem. I don't have time to wonder what he's doing with the Career pack.

Before I know it, they're surrounding me, weapons pointing inwards. I remain on the ground, hugging my knees, shaking so hard my teeth chatter. My body aches with the will to live, and tears sting my eyes.

"Please," I whimper, gazing imploringly at the District 2 boy, who seems to be in charge. "Make it quick."

Someone behind me grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks upward so I'm on my knees. I cry out, trying to push the person away, but whoever it is grabs my arms and pins them behind my back.

"Quick?" the District 2 boy whispers, bending down so his face is level with mine. I can see a mad bloodlust in his eyes. "No, I think we'll have a little fun."

His fist connects with my stomach, and the wind is knocked out of me before I can make a sound. My arms are free now, but all I can do is lie on the ground, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. The Careers laugh cruelly. They set upon me like dogs, beating and kicking every inch of me they can reach.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the pain. They are jeering, calling me a coward. Only the District 12 boy, Peeta, hangs back. The Careers back away for a moment, and I meet Peeta's eyes. He looks away.

"Piece of filth," District 2 says in disgust. I feel his sword enter my stomach and I scream.

Pain. That is all I feel. Pain as hot as the sun, coursing through me and tearing that awful sound from my throat. The Careers are laughing, congratulating each other. As if from a different world, I hear District 2 telling them to move on. Their footsteps fade away, but remain on the ground, my arms clutching the wound at my middle. Blood seeps into the ground. The world grows darker and colder.

But still it doesn't end. A face swims into focus above me. Peeta, the boy from District 12, his eyes reflecting my own pain.

"Please," I gasp. "_Please._"

I feel him take my hand and smooth the hair from my forehead. What is he doing? A gentleness I have never seen before is on his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"It hurts," I mumble, struggling to get the words out.

"I know," he replies softly. "Not much longer now, and it'll all be gone."

He's right. Already, the pain seems to be subsiding a little, but the darkness keeps coming.

"I'm scared," I whisper.

"Don't be," he says. "You're safe now. Everything is alright. You're safe."

I nod and close my eyes. I exhale slowly and finally let go to the darkness.

* * *

><p>He found out later that her name was June Finchley, and she was from District 8. She died as Peeta watched, and he never forgot.<p>

He had told Cato and the rest of the Careers that he had finished her off, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was dying anyway, and Peeta wasn't a person to put a knife in someone's heart.

After the Games, he sometimes dreamt about her. Her last words, _I'm scared_, echoed through the darkness. He wished he could have done something – anything – to help her. But if she had lived, he and Katniss wouldn't have.

But still, he could never forget June Finchley, the girl from District 8 who died holding the hand of a stranger.


End file.
